Intra Muros
by Lydia Night
Summary: A Discworld Fic about a kidnapping, starring Samuel Vimes's daughter, a rather strange cat, a teenage vampire and the Patrician's niece. Still in progress, plenty more to come. My first fanfic, so I hope it's okay!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended._

It was autumn in Ankh-Morpork. The sun rose. It shone yellow and orange, smearing the skyline apricot. It was an appealing sight, or would have been, were it not for the constant rain filling the gutters with murky water. Rain swirled around the tower that protruded from within the Unseen University grounds, and water flowed over the Brass Bridge, flooding it.

The Patrician surveyed the scene from the window in his office. It was typical autumn weather for the city. He considered the difficulties that would arise from this; for example, the streams running down the street outside the fools' guild would probably get mixed with cream and cause health problems further down the road. But the citizens would cope, as they always did in Ankh-Morpork. At least, he thought, the amount of water in the Ankh would increase by ninety-nine percent.

As he continued to gaze meaningfully out of the window, there was a polite knock at the door.

Without turning around, the Patrician said, "Ah, Drumknott. I trust all is well?"

His secretary entered and then shuffled his feet nervously.

"Well, my lord, your niece has arrived. Erm."

The Patrician sighed and sat down at his desk. "Has she been shown to her room?"

"Yes, sir," Drumknott said, nodding. "She has decided to, er, retire, as she had a long journey from her parents'."

"At this time in the morning?"

"We had to get the footman to carry her up the staircase she was so tired, my lord," said Drumknott uncertainly.

The Patrician sighed again. He would not have expected such behaviour of any other of his visitors, but his niece… She did not seem to realise how busy he was. It was as if she did not know he was trying to keep a city ticking over, not to mention the paperwork that seemed to materialise in his office like CMOT Dibbler appeared at popular events. But his sister, as always, was very persistent about him letting his niece visit him. His sister did not appear to notice that he happened to be the ruler of an 'untameable' city, as it was sometimes called. But Vanessa could be very…persuasive.

"When she awakes, kindly send her to my office. You may go now, Drumknott."

Drumknott looked relieved. "Yes, my lord."

* * *

At the corner of Upper Broadway Samuel Vimes stood under the colourful awning of the embroidery shop, watching the dismal rain. He liked the rain. Fewer crimes happened in the rain. The rain was a Watchman's friend, as he always used to say. He found the rain…peaceful. Quiet, even. He might even go as far as saying blis- His train of thought derailed as he heard a sudden ear-splitting yell from the direction of Bolly Manga's boot shop.

He looked up to the nearest clacks tower. There didn't seem to be anyone up there. Briefly, he wondered why, but then vaguely recalled something that Carrot had said about the clacks tower on the Street of Cunning Artificers. He'd even written a report. But it had become part of the mountain of papers on Vimes' floor.

It might have been helpful to have someone up in the tower, but, as no one was, he'd just have to sort it by himself.

"Oh, gods…" he said to the world in general, and broke into a run. He didn't stop until he was right outside the shop.

He had been expecting a street fight at least. But there was nothing, nobody in sight.

"What have I missed?" he said, as the rain ran off the sides of his helmet.

"Duddle-duddle-dum!"

"Oh, no…"

A voice came from the depths of his pocket. "Good afternoon, Insert Name Here! Missed appointments: interview Edyn Von Hildreth, see-"

The singsong voice was cut off as Vimes smacked his hand against the pocket containing the Disorganiser. He heard the imp muttering under his breath.

Vimes looked around again. Although the street looked empty, he thought he could feel the gaze of a pair of eyes on the back of his head. He turned around. A large white cat was staring at him from atop a nearby wall. This would have been intimidating, if it were not for the fact that the cat had a black patch over one eye, that Angua or Cheri would have called 'cute'. *

He dismissed the cat, and, after a couple of seconds of contemplation, decided to question Bolly Manga.

The bell above the door tinkled as he entered the shop. The desk was empty. The doors concealing the staircase that lead up to where Manga lived were bolted shut.

Vimes soon became aware that he was creating an increasingly large puddle on the floor. He wiped his feet on the tatty doormat and stepped into the middle of the room. As he did so, the door behind him swung open and Sergeant Detritus climbed in, followed closely by Captain Carrot. They saluted smartly.**

"What are you doing here?" Vimes asked.

"Er, don't you know, sir?" Carrot looked worried. "It was you who called us here in the first place."

"Yeah," agreed Detritus. "You said dat you needed some pris'ners taken care of."

"No I didn't." Vimes looked almost as confused as Detritus, and this was quite an achievement.

"But sir, we got a clacks saying that Sam Vimes needed us," said Carrot.

Vimes groaned as realization dawned. "Oh, no…" He'd warned Sybil about this. But his wife just wouldn't take no for an answer. "Come on."

He led them to the small set of doors off to the right, and was about to open them when a sudden thought stopped him. "Oh, and Sergeant, I don't think we'll need that yet so please put it away."

The troll looked disappointed as he tucked the converted siege weapon under the desk.

Vimes tugged on the handle of the door. "Damn thing's stuck. I-"

"Lemme help you dere, sir," Detritus offered.

"It's okay, I've got it-"

But the troll wasn't listening.

* * *

_*Well, not Angua, she didn't approve much of cats._

_**Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Carrot saluted smartly, and Detritus saluted cautiously so as not to knock himself out._


	2. Chapter 2

Bolly Manga was worried. He wasn't worried because some unlicensed thieves had tried to steal some of his finest boots. He wasn't worried because he'd caught a punch to his face when he fought back against them. He was worried because a Watchman had stopped the fight and arrested the thieves. This was not how Watchmen were supposed to behave. On the other hand, in Bolly Manga's book, most Watchmen were men.

The woman in Watch uniform had broken up the fight, silver locket swinging around her neck, and brought him in to calm down. She kept on smiling and trying to cheer him up.

"That's all sorted then," she said brightly.

He returned her smile a little uncertainly. "They've been stealing from my shop for weeks."

"Why didn't you call the City Watch sooner?"

He grimaced. There was the question he'd been dreading. "I thought it would be…too much trouble, and…well…I'd heard the rumours…"

She looked at him, encouraging him to continue.

"Well…everyone says the Watch are…that they're…that when you call them, they just blunder in and…you know…try to shoot everyone."

The Watchman looked around meaningfully.

"Not that it's true, of course," he said hurriedly.

"Of course. You know, the Watch isn't like that anymore. I don't recall a single occasion when-"

There was a loud crash as the door was kicked off its hinges and landed on the floor of the office. When the dust had almost settled, Bolly Manga saw the shape of a large troll in Watch uniform barge in and heard it shout a command.

"Nobody move or I'll shoot!" it said in a thunderous voice.

Bolly Manga looked pointedly at the female Watchman and she shrugged.

"He's not actually carrying a weapon," she pointed out.

Then she turned to the troll and saluted. As Bolly watched, another Watchman climbed over the wreckage, coughing. He fanned away some dust with his hand.

Then he spoke. "Yes, thank-you, Sergeant. I'll take it from here." It was clear to Bolly that this man was in command.

Although it looked impossible, the woman stood even more to attention as the man addressed her.

"What's the situation?"

"All sorted now, sir. Some unliscenced thieving, a bit of a street fight. Nothing more, sir. Just these two to take care of." She motioned to the two thieves, now grumbling at each other in the corner of the room where they sat, handcuffed.

"Who screamed?"

Bolly looked at his feet, his face turning a deep shade of red.

"That would be me," he admitted.

"Good work," the commander told the girl. "Angua can deal with them when we get back to Pseudopolis Yard. I take it that it was you who sent the clacks to Carrot and Detritus?"

The corner of her mouth turned up slightly in a smile. "Yessir. I would have contacted you but I couldn't pick you up on the clacks anywhere. Er, where is Captain Carrot, sir?"

"He's through there. I got him to guard the door in case of…well, in case."

"Sir."

Bolly Manga didn't follow the rest of the conversation, so instead he arranged the premium leather soft-soled boots on their shelf until one of the Watchmen remembered him. The stolen items were returned, the door was glued carefully back into its frame by a somewhat embarrassed troll* , and the scars he had received in the fight were fixed up perfectly by an Igor**.

Afterwards, Bolly was alone in his shop. If he had been the sort to contemplate things he would have wondered about the day's events. But he wasn't, so he got back to work making boots. Footwear was much simpler than people.

* * *

_*Although it is not evident when trolls are embarrassed due to their lack of sympathetic nervous systems, (or, to put it simply, because they can't blush)._

_**Bolly had assumed it was an Igor, because of the way it limped, lisped and had a jar of eyeballs slung over one shoulder. But then again, he could be wrong._


	3. Chapter 3

It was pitch black in the Unseen University Library. The darkness echoed around the figure of a young man casually leaning against a broom, illuminated by a dim lantern on the floor beside him.

He sighed and picked up the lantern. He began to sweep the floor, but soon found that he couldn't sweep and hold the lantern at the same time, and managed barely one stroke of the broom before dropping the lantern. He sighed again and put down the broom.

He buried his hand into his jacket pocket, fished around, and eventually produced a length of string. He looped the string through the handle of the lantern, tied a knot at the end and hung it around his neck. After testing the strength of the string, he collected his broom and continued sweeping the aisle.

The Librarian was watching from the rafters. He grinned, showing all of his yellow teeth. He knew the boy would go far with a mind like that. If he wasn't such a well-behaved boy, he could be dangerous. Especially in a library like this. And nobody knew better than the Librarian what could happen in this library…

* * *

Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson strolled down Upper Broadway, Detritus hulking along beside him. Commander Vimes was a good distance ahead of them, but this was not down to speed; whenever somebody passed by, Carrot would stop to greet them with a friendly smile.

"You know ev'ryone don't you?" asked Detritus.

"Well, I try to keep i- _Oh, how are you today Miss Holbrook? Good?_ Yes Sergeant, I know a lot of people but I wouldn't say ev- _Good morning, Mister Cobbler! How's that knee of yours?_"

Detritus sighed. "I bet two dollars you can name evr'ybody dat goes past."

Carrot looked at him. "You know I don't approve of betting, Sergeant, especially not while we're on duty."

"I be- I reckon you still could, though," Detritus said, mainly to himself.

"And look, that's Letitia Winsworth and Tommy Jennifer. Oh, and Ricky and Margaret Hay. And- who's that?"

"Who?"

"That girl over there. On the wall. With the gold chain."

Detritus looked. He shrugged, and they continued to walk in silence for a while. Then it seemed that a thought slowly began to occur to Detritus.

"Carrot?" inquired Detritus, as they turned onto Widdershins Broadway.

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"I is sure glad you don't approve o' bettin'."

Carrot smiled. "Good. What made you change your mind? Because it turns even the most innocent men into heartless scoundrels?"

Detritus shook his head.

"What then?"

"Well, I'm a coupl'a dollars better off den I would of bin…"


	4. Chapter 4

Samuel Vimes leaned back in his chair. He sighed inwardly and then collected a large wad of paper from his desk. "Well then, miss-" He shuffled to the back page and peered at what he hoped was this girl's surname. "Miss...Von Hildreth, is it?"

"Call me Edyn."

"Well then, Edyn, you want to be a Watchman?"

"Yeah. Er, yes, sir."

"And why is that?"

"Er," she looked around wildly. "Because...because there aren't many vampires in the Watch. Yeah, that's right. Minority beings and that."

"Well, I suppose you can join. As long as you're not a spy." Vimes could still recall the last time he enrolled a vampire.

"Er. What? If I'm a spy, then no one told me."

Sam Vimes considered this. I can believe that, he thought, stifling a yawn. However much he disliked vampires, he was too tired to argue. And he had a meeting with Vetinari in an hour. And, as if the two factors weren't bad enough on their own, he didn't like the idea of telling Vetinari that he'd turned down this Von Hildreth girl.

"Go and see Sergeant Colon, and he will give you the shilling, you'll do the oath, and he'll get you a uniform. You'll soon learn everything you need to know, but I'm sure Lance-Corporal Vimes can help you."

Vimes thought he heard the girl groan at the mention of 'Vimes', but he couldn't be sure.

He looked at her expectantly, and, when she continued to sit there, he said, "Sergeant Colon will be downstairs. Go on."

Edyn, appearing somewhat relieved, got up and crossed to the door, which Vimes heard her shut behind her as she began along the corridor.

* * *

The paint peeled from the walls of the locker room in Pseudopolis Yard Watch House. A bench lined the only wall that was not occupied by lockers.

Angua was sat on the edge of the bench, and bent over to fasten her boots. Now that the rain was stopping, she was going to patrol Treacle Street. She knew that Mister Vimes was usually around there, but today he'd had to go and see the Patrician.

It was probably best to keep her distance from Vimes at the moment. She'd heard he was not in a good mood. And it didn't surprise her. She had also heard that he'd enrolled another vampire in the Watch. This meant that _she _was not in a good mood either. But at least there would only be one for the moment, what with Sally off in Uberwald.

She stood up, and was about to close her locker when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She spun around.

After several seconds, a young woman entered the locker room and looked momentarily puzzled when she saw Angua glaring at her. The girl was wearing Watch uniform, her black hair reaching almost past her knees. She cautiously stepped around the space that Angua seemed to be occupying and found a spare locker.

She produced a lock from her pocket. Angua could see that the girl felt uncomfortable as she glanced at Angua again. Still Angua gave her a calculating glare.

_What's her problem? _thought Angua_ She must have been expecting this. Everyone's heard the rumours. So what if there's a werewolf in the Watch? There're two_ _vampires!_

"Oh, great. Someone else who hates me," Angua heard the girl mutter.

"You must be Lance-Constable Von Hildreth," Angua said, finally drawing her gaze back to her own locker.

"Like everyvun here hates me. Except vor Igor. And that's only 'cause I let him show me his potato tank," Edyn said miserably.

_She only occasionally speaks with an Uberwald accent,_ thought Angua. "What a privilege," she said, with what she hoped was subtle sarcasm.

Edyn sighed again.

"Well, I must say I'm looking vorward to meeting Lance-Corporal Vimes." She rolled her eyes as she said the name. Quietly, so that Angua could barely make it out, she added, "He soundz exactly like his father."

"Shame. Lance-Constable Vimes just left." She nodded at the door.

Edyn looked shocked. "Ew. I thought zis was a girls' locker room?" she almost gasped.

"Er, yes. It is." Angua wasn't sure what the girl was getting at.

"But…but…" Edyn stuttered.

Then realization suddenly dawned on Angua and she smiled.

"Oh, yes. Lance-Corporal Vimes is always coming in here."

Edyn looked around suspiciously.

Angua nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't worry about it if I was you."

"Er, are you sure?"

"Of course," Angua said. She noticed that Edyn was desperately trying to heave all of her belongings into her locker. "Are you in a rush?"

"Yeah, I've gotta go really soon 'cause Sergeant Colon said that Commander Vimes said it would be good vor me to get to know Captain Carrot."

Suddenly, Angua stiffened.

"Because he's going to be looking after me or something," Edyn continued.

Angua tried to disguise her horrified expression as Edyn carried on.

"We're going with Commander Vimes to see Lord Vetinari's niece. Captain Carrot is going to be 'keeping an eye' on both of uz. Me and this niece girl, I mean."

Angua pulled her face away quickly. "Yeah, I knew that…"

Edyn sighed again. "I take it you're Angua?"

"_Sergeant_ Angua, thank you."

"Sergeant, then. Oh, and Commander Vimes vanted you to take care of some unlicensed thieves."

Angua grinned, her teeth glinting.

"What are you going to do to them?" asked Edyn quickly, and then, from her dramatic change in expression, Angua could see that she wished she hadn't asked at all.

"Well... if Carrot has anything to say about, probably give them a cup of tea, persuade them kindly to rethink their lives and then send them home with a pat on the back."


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to Queenofsky for checking this over for me!_

_

* * *

_

Rufus Drumknott descended the stairs from the Patrician's office, a bundle of papers clutched to his chest with both hands. When he reached the foot of the staircase, he turned the first corner he came to and pushed open the double doors. He then passed two guards and continued through another set of doors into the foyer where Samuel Vimes and two of his Watchmen stood, with their backs to him.

Drumknott acknowledged Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson as the taller of the two, but he did not recognize the young lady next to him who was looking around anxiously. She had medium-length black hair, and was dressed all in black underneath her Watch uniform. When she noticed him, she gave him a smile, displaying her razor-sharp teeth.

_So she was this new vampire in the Watch that De Worde had written a whole page on in the _Times_. If he let a vampire into the Watch willingly, Sir Samuel must have been in a really good mood. _

But as Drumknott stepped closer, he saw the look on Vimes' face._ Or a really _bad_ mood,_ he edited mentally_._

"Good afternoon, Sir Samuel," he said. "Lord Vetinari will see you now."

Vimes grimaced.

"You might have to keep an eye on miss Vetinari, like I mentioned, Captain," he said to Carrot, and then turned with a strained smile on his face and followed the clerk as he led the way back through the doors.

* * *

As they stood in the foyer, Carrot turned to Edyn and smiled cheerfully. She returned his smile, although with slightly less enthusiasm.

After a while, a servant drifted politely towards them, saw Carrot, bobbed a curtsy and ushered an attractive young woman into the room. She had short brown hair that, despite its length, still managed to wave down her back, and was wearing a floaty peach-coloured dress. She smiled faintly and walked off in a dreamy manner, with Carrot and Edyn following closely behind her.

She led them through a criss-cross of corridors, until eventually they arrived at what appeared to be their destination.

It was a small garden, filled with the scent of the flowers that lined it. It seemed to be a square of light with walls at each side, other parts of the Palace looming over the saplings, freesias and roses that seemed to feature the most.

A corner of the garden held a bench where the girl sat down and picked up some sheets from the table.

After a while, Carrot felt that the conversation wasn't much of one, so decided to lighten the atmosphere.

He said, "You have a nice garden here, er, Elizabeth, isn't it?"

She looked up and scowled at him. "It's Libby," she said.

"Ah, Libby Vetinari, is it then?" Carrot continued with a jolly tone, as the girl collected a pencil made to look like a quill. She suddenly started to scratch the pencil across a page, and it appeared to Carrot that she was merely scribbling over it.

He took in his surroundings, looking up at the towering Palace walls around him, the sullen crumbling brick contrasting dramatically with the aesthetically pleasing environment, which stretched across an area about the same as Carrot's small office.

He glanced down* at the Lance-Constable beside him, who was watching His Lordship's niece with a look that honest Carrot could only interpret as jealousy. As Carrot gazed around, Libby 'scribbled' over three more sheets of paper.

Curiosity won over Carrot, and he couldn't help going over to see what Libby was doing.

"Wow," he said simply when he looked at the pages on the table beside her. "That's...very lifelike…"

* * *

_*Not hard to do when you are a dwarf of 6ft._


	6. Chapter 6

Lord Vetinari leaned forward and steepled his fingers over his desk.

"Do you understand that, Commander?"

"Yessir." Sam Vimes continued to stare straight ahead, just above and left of the Patrician's head. "You want my men to guard your niece."

"You _were_ listening, after all, then."

"Sir."

"I would appreciate it if, well, a woman was to be chosen for the post. The maids, I think, are not quite suitable for the job, and are not as well trained as, say, Sergeant Von Uberwald or Lance-Constable Von Humpeding."

"Lance-Constable Von Humpeding is currently in Uberwald, sir."

"What a shame. I am sure she is missed, as she is an asset to the Watch."

"Sir." Vimes' face was carefully blank.

"Well, I suppose you have a suggestion, Commander?"

* * *

Carrot stared. It was a drawing. A very good drawing. Of him. Looking around the garden. He could clearly see Edyn standing next to him, a perfect replica of the scene, in black and white. It lay at the top of a pile of drawings of freesias and snowdrops and the other flowers that Libby had placed beside her on the bench.

"That's amazing," said Edyn over his shoulder, having crossed over to see what all the fuss was about. "Can you draw anyzink?"

"Only what I see."

"Does that mean you can draw something after it's happened?" asked Carrot.

"Depends. If I was present, then yes."

"That's a remarkable talent you have, miss Vetinari."

He sat down on the opposite bench. Edyn sat next to him. She had an anxious look on her face, as though something had been worrying her for a long time.

"Er, Captain?" she asked, when Libby had returned to her drawings.

"Yes, Lance-Constable?"

"Don't you… don't you think there's zomething…_odd _about Lance-Corporal Vimes?"

"Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Sergeant Angua said that...zat Vimes, that he-"

At that moment, Lance-Corporal Vimes entered, crossed over to where they sat, and saluted.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir."

Carrot smiled. "At ease. What is it, Lance-Corporal?"

"Sergeant Colon sent me to bring the Lance-Constable's badge, sir."

"Oh," said Edyn, as she took the badge. "Thanks. I vorgot about that."

"You must have left it on the Sergeant's desk."

Carrot smiled again. "Thank you, Lance-Corporal."

"I have to get back, sir. Got to help Sergeant Littlebottom with, erm, some alchemy…"

"Understood. Dismissed."

"Sir." The Lance-Corporal saluted and left the garden through the far door that Carrot and Edyn had entered from.

Edyn turned to Carrot. "Erm, who was that? I zought I had met almost everyone in the Watch?"

"Oh, no. There are a lot of us nowadays." He frowned. "But I had thought you would have met Lance-Corporal Vimes early on."

"I don't think I want to, of what I've heard of him. I don't think he likes vampires."

"Oh, do you mean Mister Vimes? "

"Er, I meant ze Commander's son."

Carrot's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But…" he trailed off.

"Hang on. Am I missing something here?" asked Edyn suspiciously.

"Ah. Possibly," Carrot said, as he began to understand. "Did no one tell you?"

She shook her head.

"Well…"


	7. Chapter 7

Samuel Vimes considered this. "Well sir, there's always Cheery Littlebottom."

"I am certain the, oh, what is it called these days, ah, yes_, _the_ Forensics_ team would suffer if Sergeant Littlebottom was otherwise engaged, would it not?" asked Vetinari.

"I suppose so, sir," said Vimes simply.

"Although of course, if that were not the case, I would undoubtedly consider her."

"Of course. At present I cannot think of any others who would suit the job, sir."

They sat, or in Vimes' case, stood, in a thoughtful silence for a while. Then Vetinari looked up.

"I presume Lance-Corporal Vimes is occupied?"

"Why do you say that, sir?" Vimes asked innocently.

"You had not mentioned her." He studied Vimes' face carefully. "Although perhaps this was because you had not wished to seem arrogant, Commander."

"Sir," said Vimes, a blank look on his face.

Vetinari sighed to himself. The way Vimes said 'Sir' meant that the listener was left to make up their own mind.

"Well?" he asked.

Vimes continued to stare straight ahead, and then eventually said, "No, sir."

"No, Commander?"

"No, Lance-Corporal Vimes is not occupied, sir."

"Good. So you will be happy for your daughter to watch over Elizabeth?"

* * *

Edyn was stunned. "Lance-Corporal Vimes iz a _girl_?"

"Yes," Carrot answered simply.

"And she's Commander Vimes' _daughter_?"

"Yes."

"And she has ze same first name?"

"Yes."

"That must be confusing."

"As you found out."

"So that vould explain the..."

"Yes."

Edyn grimaced. "Oh dear. I bet Angua's laughing at me now."

"Probably," said Carrot, nodding.

"And just now, zat was her? Sam Vimes?"

"Yes."

"She's not how I expected."

"Because she's a 'she' probably."

"Well, yeah, but not just zat. She doesn't look much like her dad."

"Doubtless for the same reason."

"Yes,_ but_…," Edyn began, exasperated. "She's just…not how I imagined."


	8. Chapter 8

"Well?"

Vimes cleared his throat. "I think that it would be a good experience for Lance-Constable von Hildreth if she were to be given this offer. Sir."

Vetinari looked up, one eyebrow raised.

"Lance-Constable von Hildreth?"

"A new recruit, sir."

"I am aware of that. I had her application sent to you. I merely wondered... never mind."

"It would be a good opportunity for her, sir. And she has, in fact, already met miss Vetinari."

"Ah, yes. I believe they are downstairs."

"I heard about your request beforehand, sir, and thought it would be good to introduce them. I actually brought the captain to look after miss Vetinari but I think Edy- the lance-constable can cope."

"And if she cannot?"

"She'll cope, sir. But you think she ought to be accompanied? Who? Captain Carrot?"

"Perhaps. I shall leave that to you. Send her and the other man along here on Friday when you have briefed them fully."

"Yessir."

"I think that is all. You may go now, Commander. Do not let me detain you."

Vimes nodded and left the room.

Vetinari rose and crossed to the window in a fluid motion, where he stood and gazed out.

* * *

It was the next morning. Jimmy Maple sat on the step leading to the entrance of the Unseen University library. Beside him on the step sat his lunch, a pickle sandwich, and a lantern with a piece of string looped through the handle. A broom lay on the step above Jimmy, underneath his coat.

He had just bitten into his sandwich when he saw two men of about his age and a small girl approaching. He recognised them, but not well. They had grown up on his street together, played games as children, though not for long. Jimmy's mother had passed away when he was young, and his father had decided that an education would be good for Jimmy, and would allow himself time to think.

He'd sent Jimmy off to the Unseen University, although not to be a wizard; in his dad's mind Jimmy wasn't clever enough. But he had heard there was a vacancy as Librarian's assistant, down to some big explosion or something similar, and so Jimmy had started straight away.

Jimmy could only just recall the name of one of the approaching group. Ricky, wasn't it? Jimmy only remembered this because he himself had been given a similar nickname to it.

"Hi, Ricci!"

"You're not allowed to be inside the University grounds without permission," Jimmy said.

"Na. 'S alright. No one's gonna find out 'bout it," said the other, shorter man.

Ricky spoke again. "Yeah, Tommy's right. Isn't he Madge?"

"Wanna sweetie," said the youngest of the three, a small girl who looked to Jimmy to be about seven years old, stamping her feet.

Jimmy had now finished his lunch. He had been brought up to be polite; the Librarian and the wizards did not stand for any form of rudeness, and, sensibly, Jimmy wanted to keep his arms in their sockets and his eyebrows on his face, so being polite was important. But more importantly, if anyone found out about the…visitors, _and _he was late back on top of that, he might even be kicked out of the Library.

This considered, Jimmy stood up and collected his belongings.

"Ah, off are ya?" Ricky observed.

"Well, see ya 'round, then, Ricci," said the one known as Tommy.

Jimmy smiled, and looked back down the steps at them. "Good bye, gentlemen." He looked further down. "And lady, of course."


	9. Chapter 9

There was a thud as Ricky landed smartly on the other side of the wall. He helped his sister* down, and when Tommy had joined them, the three of them continued down the street.

The market had been set up today, and as they walked between the coloured stalls, stallholders cried out and people bustled around, going about business like any other market day.

"Ain't Jimmy got snobby, Rick?" his friend asked after a while.

"Yes, Tommy."

"But he does work f'ra monkey."

"A magic monkey!" contributed Madge, giggling.

"Yes, Madge," said Ricky with a sigh.

Tommy ignored this. "Jimmy never used to be like that," he said. "Although... he never really used to play with us when we was kids."

"Yeah, but he's smarter 'n us, Tom. You can't expect a toff to play I-spy."

"I s'pose. He never got told off 'smuch as us, that's for sure."

"That's 'cause he never used to pull the girls' hair."

They considered this.

Off to the left, a trader was having a shouted argument with a disgruntled customer.

"Anyway, what's wrong with I-spy?" asked Tommy suspiciously, drawing Ricky's attention away from the stall.

Ricky smiled to himself. His friend didn't let things go easily.

"I wanna play!" wailed Madge, jumping up and down. "Wanna play!"

"Oh, now you've set her off," he accused, but only jokingly; he looked down at her adoringly. "Yes, Madge, fine. But only for a little bit."

A big, childish grin spread across his sister's face. "Yay! Spy wiv little eye," she began, and then paused, her tongue stuck out in concentration. After a moment, she grinned wider. "Spy som'ing 'gining with 'c'!" she announced.

To amuse her, the two men joined in. They looked around.

"Er. Coin?"

"Cabbage?" suggested Ricky wearily. Madge shook her head at both of them.

They gave up.

"We give up," said Ricky. "You win, Madge."

"Yeah," agreed Tommy. "So what was it?"

The little girl smiled in triumph. "Cat," she said happily.

"Where? I don't see one nowhere," complained Tommy. "Tha's cheating, right?" He looked to his friend for support.

But Madge's top lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears, looking up innocently into her big brother's.

"Oh, come on," Ricky told Tommy. "This is silly. 'S just a game. Was there a cat over there, Madge?"

She nodded.

"So she still wins."

Tommy stamped his foot, arousing a cloud of pigeons to flutter off in agitation. "Tha's not fair. You know she's just doing that to make you feel sorry for her."

Ricky sighed. He just couldn't believe that a grown man could get so aggressive about a game of I-spy. It was ridiculous.

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright! Let's go see, then," he said, surrendering.

* * *

_*Although she was technically only adopted, to him she was still his sister._

* * *

"Yes, but vy _me_?"

"That's what he said," said Cheery, removing a phial of colourless liquid from one of the many rows on the planks currently serving as makeshift shelves.*

"And he couldn't even tell me himself?" Edyn asked from her perch on a worktop.

"The Commander of the Watch is a busy man. Pass the potassium, Sam."

"Sure," said Samantha, rummaging in a cupboard and eventually producing a jar of powder. She handed it to Cheery. "So, what does this do, again?"

"Well, with the correct measurements of elements, it should be able to test for the presence of sulphuric acid in _this_," she explained, indicating the phial.

A look of concern spread across Samantha's attractive face. "But…doesn't potassium react violently with dilute sulphuric acid?"

"Like a major explosion?" asked Edyn eagerly.

"Yes. That's kind of the test, you see. So if this liquid blows up, then it has a trace of sulphuric acid in it," said Cheery, cheerfully.

"Right," Edyn conceded slowly. "Anyway, Lance-Corpora-"

"Call me Sam."

"Anyvay, Sam," Edyn finished quickly, "what's your da-, Vime-, the Commander off doing?"

"Well, I think he's clacksing Lance-Constable Humpeding in Uberwald. About a new recruit from up there."

"Why's he sent her there? I though the interviewee had to come to Ankh-Morpork?" Edyn asked. "I did."

"Well," said Samantha, smiling again, "he says it's confidential, and that there are 'odd circumstances'. So I can't tell you much, if only because I don't actually know."

"Oh," said Edyn, sounding disappointed.

"But if they both think the recruit is suitable, we'll know soon enough."

"So now he's gonna choose somebody to work with me, but not Sally? Or you, Cheery?"

"Yes," said Cheery, holding the phial a few inches above the test tube. "That's what he told me."

Edyn heaved a sigh.

"Cheer up," Sam told her. "It doesn't sound too bad. You'll get to see inside the Palace."

"Yeah. Maybe. Well, I hope he ch-"

There was an ear-splitting explosion, and Sam and Edyn** ducked as bits of glass shot over their heads and wedged into the wall.

Sam inspected one, and it vibrated with a thrumming noise as she anxiously prodded it.

"I think," she said, "that we can safely say there is just a tad of sulphuric acid in that."

"Safely?" said Edyn slowly. "Since when was loosing half an eyebrow safe?"

* * *

_*In a 5 metre radius of the forensics lav, permanent shelves never were._

_**but not Cheery- being shorter had to have some perks, and therefore she didn't need to bother ducking the shards soaring above her head._


	10. Chapter 10

_This chapter is dedicated to my friend Helen, on her Birthday- Happy Birthday!_

* * *

They walked cautiously over to the clothes stall. Tommy pushed across a hung-up cardigan, and the three of them looked down.

There sat a girl of about sixteen, with black streaks in her white-blonde hair, pulling a violet jumper over her knees. A look suggesting that they'd caught her out flashed in her amber-green eyes, but before they could really be sure that that was what it was, she had changed her expression to a friendly smile.

She appeared to be furiously un-clipping a gold disc from a chain around her neck, and, as they continued to stare in bewilderment, she stood up and pushed it into Madge's hand. The strange girl brushed herself off quickly, looking around.

The stallholder was one of those large men that always have either an astonished or disagreeable look on their face. He turned to see what the commotion was about, and upon discovering the answer began to run after the girl, but she leaped up the steps outside of the nearest building and was gone.

The man stopped in his tracks, mostly because he ran into Tommy's stiff arm, and he complained angrily.

"That was one of my best jumpers! She hasn't paid!"

Madge looked frustrated as the man struggled to get past Tommy. But they had grown up in one of the rougher parts of Ankh-Morpork and not much could budge Tommy when his mind was set on something.*

When the man had calmed down, the two men let him go, and Madge dropped the strange disc into his hand. He gazed at it, and his eyes shone.

"R- real gold?" he wondered, maybe to himself, disbelievingly.

"You can probably check it out down the Alchemists' Guild," volunteered Ricky.

"Wouldn't trust them blighters with such as this."

"I reckon, I reckon, right," began Tommy, who appeared to be counting on his fingers. "I reckon that at least ten percent o' that is Madge's."

The man glanced down. The little girl stared up at him with her puppy dog eyes. He fished around in his pocket and produced a coin, which he placed into her small palm.

Then he said, "Alright then, off you go now, little girl."

"C'mon Madge," said Tommy, taking the coin from her unresisting hand. "Not bad f'ra day's work, hey, Rick?"

But Ricky was still thinking about the strange young woman behind the stall, and the look of clear yet mild surprise on her face. And what about the cat? Madge wouldn't lie. Well, not to her big brother at any rate. So… But no. It wasn't even possible.

He shook his head, and took his sister's hand in his own.

* * *

The silence was broken by a quiet swishing sound, as Arch-Chancellor Ridcully turned the page of his book. It was heavy and leather-bound, with a large gold tassel marking the page. On the cover, in delicate golden lettering, it was entitled "advanced fishing".

Ridcully usually spent his Friday evenings like this, his feet crossed on his desk, and a good book in his hands. In fact he had a pile of such books by his chair, mostly with titles like "hunting tactics" and "the super sport of angling".

Down the hallway from Ridcully's study, in one of the smaller rooms, the Dean and the Chair of Indefinite Studies sat around a crooked wooden table, playing whist. This 'smaller room' happened to be the current staff room, and would remain to be until the Arch-Chancellor no longer felt it necessary to stash his fishing bait in the cupboards in the previous one.

Now the senior wizards gathered in this less fishy-smelling room, with its moth-eaten curtains and battered sofas. They'd brought down a couple of tables and chairs from one of the classrooms, and Stibbons had busied himself producing a notice board, so it now vaguely resembled what he thought a staff room should look like.

The wizards used their own cushions from their rooms to make the seating bearable, and they managed well enough, despite the grumbles.

"Hah! Beat you again, old chap!"

"You seem to think I can't see you cheating, Chair," smiled the Dean.

"Cheating? How dar-"

There was a polite knock at the door.

The room went silent. Eventually, the Dean said, "Er, come in?"

A pink figure entered, pushing a trolley laden with confectionery and cakes.

"Ai thought hyou gentlemen hwould be hungry," said Mrs Whitlow.

From his position behind him, Ponder Stibbons automatically bent to catch the swooning Senior Wrangler.

"Thank you, Mrs Whitlow. Er."

"Ai think Ai'd better hleave," she said carefully .

She put the trays of food onto a small table by the door, and then left with a gleam of pink silk, the door closing gently behind her. The wizards heard the trolley rattling along the corridor.

The Dean looked around at them.

"Well?" he said. "Get on with it, gents."

"Um, I wonder if I co-"

"Yes, Stibbons. You may put the Senior Wrangler down now. Gently, mind."

Ponder, relieved, laid the man out on one of the emptier sofas. The elderly wizard at the other end looked around, and then looked bewildered as a piece of paper was pushed into his hands, and he was told to fan it at the man sprawled next to him.

"Right," said the Dean. "That's better."

After a while someone said, "Where's the Bursar?"

They all looked around.

"Oh no…" began the Chair. "What now?"

* * *

_*Physically, anyway. Only Ricky knew it, but Tommy was very partial to the occasional bowl of jelly and ice cream._


	11. Chapter 11

Constable Cleg Clegson strolled down the Street of Cunning Artificers, the newest recruit to the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, Skjøld, jogging along to keep up. Why Clegson had been chosen to watch over the rookie was a mystery to both of the dwarves; Clegson was nervous at the best of times, though he was one of the fastest runners in the Watch, and Skjøld hadn't spoken a word since his enrollment. What use would the both of them be if something important happened? It was just as well that the clacks were available. They could send out a message and Captain Carrot could be there in a matter of minutes.

But Carrot had convinced them that they wouldn't need to contact him just to deliver a message. They only had to give a piece of paper to the locksmith at the end of the street. How hard could it be?

Clegson sped up at this thought. Then he slowed again, remembering his accomplice.

Lance-Constable Skjøld would be much fitter by the end of the day, that at least was for certain. He was having trouble keeping alongside Clegson, and tapped him on the shoulder every now and then to take a breather.

"Sorry," said Clegson apologetically. "I'll try to go slower."

Skjøld bent over with his hands on his knees, wheezing and gasping.

Clegson looked around as he waited for Skjøld to get his breath back. The clacks tower loomed over them, but it was empty and boarded up. That wouldn't be any use. They couldn't even clacks for help. The embroidery shop was to the left behind them, but Clegson had met the owner, and doubted that Miss Coletta would be good for anything in a fight except perhaps threaten the attacker with a high heel and maybe even a needle if she was feeling especially aggressive.

Clegson told himself he was over-reacting. They'd be fine. Nobody was going to attack them. Yes. He was over-reacting.

He suddenly spun around.

"What was that?" he whispered.

Skjøld didn't seem to have heard anything.

"Must have been nothing," he said to himself. "I'm imagining things." But for a moment there he could have sworn he heard a board creak.

There was only one way to be certain.

"Follow me," he told Skjøld carefully.

He approached the entrance to the tower, and pushed aside a board. Gingerly, he stuck his head in.

"Hello?" he said into the darkness.

When the word had finished echoing, Clegson could hear nothing more.

He retracted his head and saw Skjøld looking at him.

"All clear," he said. "Must have been a… a rat or something."

When he was sure the other dwarf had caught his breath, Clegson turned and continued the stroll at a slower pace.

"_Must_ have been a rat," he muttered to himself.

* * *

"Bursar?"

The Chair of Indefinite Studies walked down the passage in the Unseen University, followed by a couple of senior wizards.

"Bursar?" he called again.

They turned a corner.

"Yes?"

The Bursar walked calmly towards them.

"Where were you?" asked the Chair.

"Reading. In the Library. Are my services required?"

The Chair narrowed his eyes. "How many dried frog pills have you taken?"

"I assure you, I have not exceeded my necessary dose. Is something the matter, man?"

The three other senior wizards looked stunned. Something weird must be happening. The Bursar was acting strangely. Because he was acting normal. Which wasn't normal. Which was confusing.

Finally one of them managed to say something.

"No, nothing's the matter," said the Chair, his voice a little strained. He was sure that Library messed with people's heads.

* * *

Some distance from the University, in one of the forests deep in the outskirts of Ankh-Morpork, an old coach bumped across the mud path between the trees, overhung crooked branched scraped against the roof, and the dark shadows in the wood were beginning to thicken.

Inside the coach, Lord Hearne looked across at the strange girl in the seat opposite. She would occasionally glance up at him, but would instantly draw her eyes back to her lap in embarrassment when she met his gaze.

Hearne could not understand why she seemed so uncomfortable; she was from Uberwald, a newcomer to Ankh-Morpork, just like him. And his family had nothing against vampires, especially respectable ones, and working to protect such an honorable city as Ankh-Morpork was indeed respectable. Which was part of the reason he was leaving.

His family had moved to Uberwald decades ago, and lived on the side furthest from Ankh-Morpork. His mother considered it a great honour to guard such a noble city*.

At the market, Hearne had heard that the Watch was much more multicultural nowadays, and that Ankh-Morpork was more accepting. His parents had seen this as his big chance.

Word was that the Watch had allowed a werewolf, a vampire, an Igor, gargoyles, trolls, dwarves, golems and even an orangutan to join. So surely an elf was no different? And anyway, he was only part elf, so nobody would notice if it weren't for his ears and the effect that iron had on him. They were just… unfortunate circumstances.

The coach rattled on.

The girl- Sally, she'd said her name was- had seemed surprised that Hearne hadn't had to travel into the city for his interview; according to her, there was much talk about it, even from the ruler. The fact that Hearne was one of the last Lords of the elves was somehow significant. He didn't let this bother him, so why should anyone else?

But there appeared to be an obvious reason for this.

Everyone was entitled to Lord Vetinari's opinion.

* * *

_*For some reason, the girl had found this strangely amusing when he'd told her..._


	12. Chapter 12

The Patrician looked up from his notes. He studied the faces of the seated men around the oak table. They looked worried. And angry. Especially Lord Rust.

"I am sure you are all aware of the reason for which we are assembled here today. The current economic crisis has affected each of you, as the investors of the Swon Bank," Vetinari said, to the crowd of anxious faces, "which, I understand, is facing several difficulties."

"Hah! 'Several difficulties'? Left me almost skint, it did!" muttered a man in a well-tailored waistcoat.

Vetinari sighed. "I am certain they did not intend for their business to collapse. At Swon they say it is the recession. They say this means that your investments have b-"

"They've been stolen!" shouted a red-faced man near the far side of the table. "We were robbed!"

There was a murmur of agreement.

"Gentlemen, please," began Vetinari. "Although I cannot promise the return of your money, I beg that you do not blame our diligent associates over at Swon."

"Why shouldn't we?"

"I realise that you are angry, gentlemen, but Swon is not the only bank facing a lot of problems."

Some of the investors grumbled.

Vetinari paused. "You are very quiet this afternoon, Lord Rust."

The man continued to stare straight ahead.

"I do not need to talk to be able to think, my lord," he said curtly.

Vetinari smiled.

"That is truly fortunate. But back to the point, gentlemen. The Swon bank has apologised, yet the decrease in-" he began, although he was interrupted by a thin man to his left.

"I heard that Ronald lost over two grand."

Rust stood up abruptly, and his chair crashed to the floor. "Where, pray, did you hear that?" he growled.

"W-well," stuttered the man, shrinking back in his chair. "You k-know, rumors and s-s-s-similar."

"You need to check your resources. It was two thousand grand, is what I heard!" shouted the red-faced man.

"Gentlemen," said Vetinari calmly, before Rust could turn his anger on the latest speaker. "Many banks and other businesses have been corrupted or shut down or both. I believe it is known to some of the public as the 'pocket pinch'. I am assured that your money will be returned as and when the bank can do so, but until then you will have to make do with what you have remaining."

The men began to grumble again, but were suddenly silenced by a look from Vetinari.

Rust picked up his chair and sat down, his eyes narrowed, and said nothing more.

Vetinari sighed, looking around at the ex-richest men in the city, all above forty and most of them greying slightly, or completely lacking hair altogether. They squabbled and argued like children, though they were highly respectable men and great figures of power in the city. Or, at least, they had been.

The 'pocket pinch' had come suddenly, just when they had invested almost every last penny into the new bank, which would 'revolutionise the city', when Swon had been forced to close down immediately.

The _Times _had said that over three major banks had lost money in Ankh-Morpork, and the Swon got one of the worst cases. The other two banks had been forced to join together, and currently shared everything, from staff to pencils. It had come so unexpectedly that it wasn't just the banks that had been involved; the well-known, old-established Gwenich mug store on Mincing Street had had to sell the shelves, and one of Vetinari's clerks had even seen the staff uniforms up for sale in the market.

Vetinari shook his head.

* * *

A few corridors deeper into the Palace, Lance-Constable Edyn von Hildreth groaned.

She was lost. Sure, it was easy enough for Carrot to tell her the directions, but he should have known she'd get lost in the maze of passageways that made up the Palace.

Edyn turned a corner, which looked just the same as all the other corners she'd seen earlier today, and found she was standing in a corridor, which was just the same as all the other corridors she'd seen earlier today. It was no use.

But she didn't give up. Libby Vetinari had to be here somewhere. She had to be in _one _of these rooms. She had to.

There was a door to Edyn's left. She knocked and tried the handle. It was locked. She tried the next, and the next, but both were tightly shut and bolted as well. However, the next handle turned under her grip and the door swung open. Anxiously, Edyn ducked her head around the door and peered into the room. It seemed to be empty.

Edyn sighed in frustration.

After several more locked doors, and a few empty rooms, she saw a larger pair of double doors at the end of a corridor. She stopped as his Lordship exited, flanked by two guards, and then a couple of men in plain suits drifted out of the doorway behind him, talking. As they turned off down the passage on their way out, a procession of similarly dressed men followed, until the flow stopped and the men had all continued past a few more oak doors.

Before they were out of sight, Edyn strolled after them, intent on getting directions or something similar. But as she passed one of the smaller oak doors, a booming voice made her jump.

"What have I told you?"

She thought she'd been caught out sneaking around suspiciously, so she sighed and went to get her Watch badge from her satchel.

She turned slowly with it held up, ready to surrender if the owner of the loud voice tried to have her arrested for trespassing. But when she was facing the door, she saw it was only open a couple of inches, and she couldn't see anyone around.

Tiptoeing up to the door, Edyn peeked in through the gap and was surprised at what she saw.

There was a boy of about her age, possibly younger, cowering beneath something she couldn't see behind the door, but what she assumed was the man who was yelling. The boy had slick, black hair, most of which had been smoothed to one side and tucked behind an ear. He seemed to be dressed quite smartly. He leaned backwards in terror as the man towered over him.

"I'm s-sorry father, b-b-but I can't d-do that…," the boy whimpered.

The man's voice got louder.

"What d'you mean, 'can't'? You must! This is the whole of my- _our_ fortune at stake, here!"

When the boy didn't answer, merely trembled, the booming voice got quieter.

"Listen, son, you know how that bank going bust hit us right below the belt. This is the only way we can even think of getting any back."

Edyn heard him sigh.

The boy appeared to murmur something inaudible.

"What does it matter if she's older than you? She's got to be the richest bloody girl in the whole bloody city! I told you the plan, so go with it. And let nothing stop you."

The boy stepped back. Edyn assumed this was with fright, but then she saw a glimpse of red and spun round so her back was against the wall.

The door banged open centimetres from her face as the owner of the voice, the boy's father, stormed out without seeing her.

The black-haired boy walked out after him, looking at his feet, and Edyn held her breath.

She breathed out when they were both out of sight, and slid out from behind the door.

She didn't know what to make of what she'd just overheard, and was too preoccupied with decoding it that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching behind her until Libby Vetinari was standing at her side.

"Lance-Constable?"

Edyn turned at the sound of the dreamy voice.

"Oh, uh," she said, and remembered the original reason she'd been in the Palace. "The Captain said I was to meet you both..."

Libby nodded understandingly.

"Follow me," she said and drifted off the way she'd come.

Edyn shook her head disbelievingly and trudged off after Libby's retreating figure.


	13. Chapter 13

The men had all left, and so Vetinari returned to his office; the paperwork wouldn't do itself.

As he signed and sealed a document, he considered the meeting. It had not been a very productive meeting, he noted, so he would need to be stricter in future. And also noted Lord Rust's strange behaviour. The man had been acting out of character- he had been oddly quiet for the remainder of the meeting. He hadn't argued with every suggestion like he usually would have.

This either meant that Rust was genuinely worried, or that he was plotting something. Or both. Vetinari couldn't always tell with Lord Rust.

Drumknott entered silently. Vetinari looked up.

"A letter for you, my lord," said the clerk.

"It's a wonder the post office is still running, isn't it, Drumknott? Mr Von Lipwig is doing well, I see."

"The clacks service is having trouble, but Lipwig has managed to keep the postal system working, sir. And the Mint is desperately trying to cope."

"Yes. And I see you made a visit to him recently. Yesterday, if I'm quite right."

Drumknott looked at Vetinari.

"How did you know this time, my lord?"

"Drumknott," said Vetinari, as if it was blatantly obvious. "Two days ago, you had just bought a new pencil, and yesterday it was perfectly fine. Yet this afternoon you have a new one." He took the letter. "Ah, it's from Vanessa," he said, inspecting the envelope. "My sister wouldn't have used the clacks anyway. She doesn't trust them."

Vetinari unfolded and began to read the letter, one eyebrow rising every now and then. After he'd finished, he folded the letter and placed it carefully under his inkwell.

He leaned back in his chair.

"Would you send my niece up, Drumknott? I think she needs to know what this is about."

* * *

In his study, deep within the corridors of the Unseen University, Archchancellor Ridcully took a sip of cider and leaned back in his chair.

He repositioned his feet on the desk, and flipped over the page of his book, humming to himself.

While he read, a ripple swam through his drink.

And then again.

With the third ripple, some cider even splashed over the side of the glass.

A book slammed heavily off of its shelf onto the floor behind him. He jumped out of his chair, his book crashing to the ground, the glass flying from his hand and splashing cider over the carpet. He spun around.

Warily, he bent down and carefully picked up the book. He turned it over in his hands. Nothing. He shrugged and put it back in its place on the shelf. As he started to turn, another of the books fell down and thudded onto his foot. He bent down and read the cover. 'Top Twenty Hunting Tips' seemed to glare back at him.

The bookcase shook.

Ridcully grabbed a falling book.

Two fell around behind him, and his hands flailed wildly as he dodged the cascading books.

As his foot shot out to catch another, there was a loud 'thunk', and 'Angling Tactics' landed smartly on the back of his head.

His vision went black.

* * *

Ridcully opened one eye carefully.

The Chair of Indefinite Studies grinned back at him. It wasn't the best sight to see upon awakening.

There was a sudden hush in the room. The Chair's face was replaced by that of the Dean. It wasn't a great improvement.

"How are you feeling, old chap?" asked the Dean.

"What happened?"

"We were about to ask you the same thing," came the voice of Stibbons. "We just found you lying there, sir."

Various recollections assembled themselves in Ridcully's mind.

"The books," he croaked. "They're all…wreaking havoc."

"We did notice that they appeared to be excitable, yes, sir," said Stibbons.

"Well, what does the Librarian have to say on this?" asked Ridcully, sitting up slowly. "He's a sensible chap who always seems to know what's going on."

"We think he must be having his nap, sir. He wasn't in the staff room," Stibbons volunteered .

"Have you checked the Library?" Ridcully asked, rubbing the back of his head.

There was a general shuffling of feet.

"Er, no, not… not exactly, sir."

"Why in heavens' names not? First place I'd look for a librarian's in a library."

There was a laugh from somewhere behind him.

"You try it then, if you're so tough," came a murmur from a small crowd of students, to sniggering.

"Don't think I didn't hear that, Wigton," said the Dean, glaring towards the little group that had gathered outside the door.

The students went silent, and legged it down the corridor.

"What did the man mean?" asked Ridcully suspiciously, nodding towards where the boys had just been lingering. "What's wrong with the Library?"

The wizards went silent.

"Well?" he demanded.

Stibbons was pushed forward.

"Er, right, sir. The, um. The thing is. Um…" Stibbons' voice drifted off. He looked around at the senior wizards for backup. They seemed to be busy inspecting the floor, walls, and ceiling very thoroughly.

Stibbons sighed.

"You'd better see for yourself, sir," he said, giving up.


	14. Chapter 14

"Ook!"

The Librarian awoke suddenly at the determined thudding and raucous noise arising below him.

He climbed down from where he was perched in the rafters, and went to quieten down the grimoires.

As he lumbered along the familiar passages of the Library, he considered how quiet the books _had_ been recently*. Lately, they had calmed down considerably, especially since he'd scolded that textbook after it had almost eaten old Mrs Davies from Weaver Street. But now…

He plodded out into a clearing at the end of a corridor of shelves. From where he'd entered, there were two towering bookcases on either side of him, both stretching away in a horseshoe shape until they reached the wall that was opposite him. Lecterns holding the more animated of books were dotted around, and there was a heavy octorin door set into the wall. He attempted to wave the nearest books into silence, but several hardbacks were still thrashing at the chains on their lecterns. They tugged at the stone, their pages flapping agitatedly. The sound of clinking metal only died down once the Librarian had comforted the most restless volumes, and even then, the books were far from calm.

He was sure he already knew what the cause of the commotion was.

He drew the door's solid bolts across, produced a key from somewhere about his body and inserted it into the lock. A series of clunks were heard, followed by a loud and final-sounding 'thunk!' and then the door swung open with a creak that any Igor would be proud of.

Taking a final look behind him, he plodded through the door and down the stone steps. At the bottom was another door. This door was thicker, made not of octorin but of iron, and no one but the Librarian or his assistant was able to open it. The rumours were that the door was protected by hundreds of intricate locking mechanisms and that the lock was impossible to open unless you knew the solution. This challenge had intrigued a few groups of University students, who spent hours a day discussing what the solution could be and trying to find ways around every kind of lock they could come up with**.

The Librarian reached up into the little hanging basket by the door and plucked the key out from under the petunias. He slipped it into the lock under the door handle, and pushed the huge door open.

The Book, so grand and important that it was deserving of a capital letter, was bound by huge iron chains at the centre of the dungeon, with four tall posts standing around it in a square. This was the Potentia. The new book. Sent all the way from Genua to the UU for the wizards to keep safe. Simple magic was nothing compared to the power of stories and words in Genua, they'd said.

If it had been like any of the other books that Unseen took under its metaphorical wing to keep secure until their power ran low, the levels of security around the Potentia would be much higher. But it needed to be checked up on every day, and it was not hard to see why. The Book itself lay still in its position, but lightning-like bolts of power visibly crackled through and around it. That was the reason for the four posts; they in fact did nothing to secure the Potentia, but they channelled the power so that it flowed mostly inside the square, travelling to and from the posts and almost forming a box around the Book. Some tendrils escaped, however, and licked at the floor.

The Librarian hulked towards it slowly. He found it strange that octorin seemed to have little effect on the Potentia whatsoever, and that it instead was iron that kept it at bay. Well, mostly kept it at bay.

The job of checking up on the Book had been given to his assistant- the young Maple boy. The lad didn't seem to mind about this. In fact, he never complained about anything at all. He could almost understand the Librarian enough to work well alongside him, not that the two worked directly together very often. The Library was such a huge place, and Maple mostly worker near to the Potentia. The boy was currently clearing away the mess today's public had made in the public shelves, not too far from the horseshoe circle where the door to the Potentia's cellar was, but far enough that none of the public would accidentally stray near it. The public area was, however, close enough that were anything to go wrong with the Book, Maple would be near by.

Deciding that nothing here required his attention, the Librarian turned and left the little room, locking the iron door and tucking the key away in the flower basket. Turning at the top of the steps to face the octorin door, he locked and bolted it, lumbered off and settled back down into the rafters.

Several bookcases away, Jimmy Maple swept away in the gloom, picking up books and tidying up the mess made by the Library's visitors. He whistled as he went, soothing some of the more lively literature into dormancy, with the light reflecting from his lantern onto his face the only light, and his eyes two glistening specks in the echoing darkness that surrounded him.

_*Well, in fact, his thoughts ran more along the lines of "Ook"._

_**These students' many discussion sessions also seemed to include highly interesting, or highly detailed at least, conversations about the latest styles of granny-knitted pullovers, and painful yet meticulous debates on the funny looks that they appeared to constantly receive._


	15. Chapter 15

Libby Vetinari gazed dreamily out at the city, unconsciously sketching the view from her chamber window; the Tower of Art striking from the landscape with a purple haze, the birds scattering, and the sky a perfect blue. If anyone had looked closer, they would have seen the faultless detail in the face of each passer-by, every smile, laugh and emotion captured on paper forever.

She hummed calmly to herself, a gentle breeze wafting through her cascading hair as the pencil flowed swiftly across the paper.

As something in the view caught her attention, her eyes momentarily flashed with uncertainty. The pencil dropped from her suddenly motionless hand, and rolled across the floor.

She stood up, her dress shimmering as the sunlight glinted off the waves of creases, and her eyes returned to their usual faraway look.

Silently, the paper drifted to the floor as she ran out of the room.

Edyn, sitting a table in the corner opposite Carrot, raised an eyebrow. The two officers looked at each other, then hurried to follow Libby.

Moments later, there came a knock at the door of the empty chamber. Getting no answer, Drumknott knocked again, saying, "My lady?" and then opened the door carefully.

What he discovered was that the room was empty except for a sheet of paper on the floor. He picked it up, frowned at what he saw, and headed back to his Lordship's office bearing the page in his hand.

* * *

Jimmy hummed to himself as he tidied away some mislaid books. He picked up dropped ones and placed them carefully on the shelf. He tried to be a tidy person, always being helpful and considerate, and he thought it paid off. Wizards never liked their work to be interfered with by non-magical commoners, but permitted Jimmy as long as he cleared up behind himself.

There really was a mess today. As he began down the next aisle, he noticed several more books lying strewn across the floor.

He sighed. Sometimes the public could be very disordered.

He collected them up and positioned them in their correct alphabetical order on the right shelf.

But then another book drew his attention, from out of the corner of his eye.

He walked towards it, as it lay there on the ground, the cover crumpled and the edges bent. He picked it up, and looked at it intently. Turning the stained cover carefully, he tried to make out the blotchy writing that served as the list of times the book had been checked out.

He scraped away a layer of grime, and read the scruffy writing. He read it again. Then he turned the page and looked on the back of the previous one. But still nothing more.

He inspected the torn pages, the grubby edges and the occasional burnt corner. This must have been taken out more than once. It must have. One person, not even in Ankh-Morpork, could do this to a book in a week, surely? He vowed to ask the Librarian about it. The ape knew these kinds of things.

He flipped the book into his shirt pocket, and brushed the fallen dirt off of his trousers.

Unnoticed, as Jimmy whistled along the passageway, a silver spark flickered across his pocket.

* * *

The clouds lingered above, and Samantha Vimes could tell it was going to rain again. Nevertheless, she walked down Scoone Avenue at patrolling speed with a swing in her step. It was usually quiet around here, and save for the threatening clouds, it was a peaceful autumn morning.

Although Sam was a night person, she would often spend a few hours in the mornings, patrolling at a leisurely pace, deep in thought. It was the only time she had to think to herself; she was busy all day with the Watch and then with her studies when she got home.

At the junction to Chrononhotonthologos Street, she was about to turn left when she suddenly felt she was being watched.

Slowly, she turned around.

And looked down.

There sat a white cat, with a black patch over one eye and a gold collar draped around its neck. But that wasn't what made Sam uncomfortable. It was the eyes. They bore into hers, unblinking.

They stood still silently, just staring.

After a while, a bell rang from a clacks tower somewhere nearby, and Samantha broke her gaze and into a run. As she sped towards the clacks tower, she got a strange feeling that she recognised the cat. Well, perhaps she would see it again some day. In the meantime she put it out of her mind and headed off to save the day once more.


	16. Chapter 16

The sparks crackled along the ground, licking at the carpet as they drew nearer their destination. The books rustled, their pages flicking open in excitement, and the chains thrashing at the walls.

Jimmy watched in awe, invisible in the shadows of the university. The light from the sparks reflecting in his eyes, he gazed towards the centre of the commotion. He could just make out the octorin door that lead down to the Potentia, a purple haze creating a blurry frame around the door.

There was a whispering close to Jimmy's ear, first quietly, then becoming increasingly loud. He spun around.

The darkness shuddered.

Jimmy carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out the book. He stared at it. It seemed to be flowing with power itself. It must have had something to do with the _Potentia._

Sparks rustled along his fingertips at his touch, strong, but not painful.

For the first time, his fingers travelled to the spine, creased and stained though it was, he could just read the blotchy lettering.

Intrigued, he turned to the first few pages, and read them, becoming increasingly fascinated. When he was a good fifth of the way through the book, he seemed to remember the rest of the library and looked up.

But eventually his eyes were drawn back to the pages yet again, and his head filled with thoughts of power.

Some instincts somewhere were telling him that the book was to blame for this, but he shooed them away, regardless. The after-effects of previous books were gone, wiped out and completely replaced by these new and brilliant dreams.

* * *

Jimmy's mind raced, filled to the brim with new ideas, ideas of control, and ideas of power. He was now completely oblivious to the noise and mayhem occurring behind him.

Slowly, his eyes appeared to glaze over slightly. His head hurt, but now one force was fighting to take control of his head, and it succeeded. He began to grin very slowly in a particularly uncomfortable way.

The sparks emitting from the crackling book reflected in his wide eyes as they danced across the pages and stretched like tendrils along his fingertips.

He could feel the knowledge welling up inside him, spilling out of his ears and sparkling like new. He could feel the power, power like he'd never experienced before, power that he'd never even dreamed of dreaming of.

And still there was the voice, the tiny echo in his head that had more control over him than he did, although he felt more in control than he ever had before.

So this was power.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

* * *

Vetinari steepled his fingers.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Around the University?"

"The Tower of Art, uncle."

"It may just be a temporary spell, or something of the sort…"

Libby frowned. The frown didn't suit her face.

"I know what I saw," she said calmly.

Vetinari's eyes flickered to the Watchmen by the door as he crossed to the grand window and sought the protruding form of the Tower amongst the clouds.

"Indeed," was all he said.

"Can I go and have a closer look?"

Vetinari's eyebrow rose at this.

"It could be dangerous, Elizabeth."

Libby fumed slightly.  
"It's Libby," she muttered.

"Excuse me, erm, sir, uh, your lordship," Edyn put in, "but isn't that what ve're here for? Keeping her, like, zafe from danger and stuff?"

Carrot nodded at her. "Good point, Lance-Constable."

"Cheers," she said.

"Well," said Vetinari, watching the two of them, "it seems that's settled then."

Libby smiled.

"In the meantime," he continued, "I will speak with the Archchancellor. I thought all the magical leaks had been dealt with. Apparently not."

At that moment, Drumknott returned.

"My lord, I'm afraid she wasn't the-"

He looked at Libby.

"Ah," he said.

"Quite. What do you have there, Drumknott?" Vetinari asked him, motioning to the drawing that his secretary carried.

Drumknott put in on the desk.

"Shall I contact the University?" he asked.

Vetinari nodded at him.

Drumknott turned to leave, and then so did Libby but she was stopped.

"Elizabeth?" Vetinari called to her as Drumknott disappeared around the corner.

"Yes, uncle?"

"You should be aware of this," he said, passing her the letter from his sister. He nodded to the Watchmen. "Good day, Captain, Lance-Constable."

Carrot saluted. Edyn followed suit and then they both followed Libby out of the office.


End file.
